


knees weak, but you talk pretty proud, wow

by hajitoru



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Best Friends, Fluff, Pining, Yearning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:00:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23797303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hajitoru/pseuds/hajitoru
Summary: a compilation of haikyuu drabbles for my friendsship + 1 wordcontent varies but everything is SFW!title is just a random conan lyric i love ;;
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Kudos: 16





	1. jokes

**Author's Note:**

> iwaoi + glasses for mars  
> in which iwaizumi sucks at flirting, as per usual.

Movie nights with Oikawa are simultaneously the best and worst things in the world. While Iwaizumi loves spending time with Oikawa—especially now, since university takes up a majority of their time and it’s an hour train ride back and forth to either of their apartments—the fact that they never end up paying attention to the movie really bothers Iwaizumi.

  
He doesn’t even have to predict that they won’t finish the romcom Oikawa had picked for tonight, because halfway through Oikawa’s laying on his back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, and Iwaizumi has his back up against the couch, staring at Oikawa.

  
Tonight he’s wearing glasses, a little square-ish, but with a slight curve at the bottom of the thin metal frame. They’re similar to the ones he had in high school and Iwaizumi huffs.

“You look really shitty in those,” he says.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You look like an absolute fucking moron. Like a professor that goes to the wrong classroom on the first day of class and gives an entire lecture, just to realize he’s one room off.”

Oikawa pouts and pushes himself up onto his elbows to shoot one of his why are you doing this looks Iwaizumi’s way. “You’re being mean.”

“Take ‘em off so I can snap them in half.”

“You’re the worst best friend ever.”

Iwaizumi shrugs. “I’m honest.”

It’s not even that Oikawa looks bad in the glasses because he doesn’t. Iwaizumi just hates how whenever Oikawa wears them, his heart can’t seem to handle facing how good his best friend looks and that makes Iwaizumi a little uneasy. So he goes for bullying Oikawa instead of sputtering up the compliments that swirl in the back of his throat.

“You think honest is the same thing as mean and it’s not!” Oikawa whines.

“For me, it is the same thing.”

But Iwaizumi knows he’s not being honest.

Irritation and tugging Oikawa’s ego around is just something Iwaizumi’s grown accustomed to over the years. If he feeds too much into Oikawa’s looks, the asshole will become unbearable, but also if he digs too much into his insecurities, Iwaizumi would hate himself—so jokes. That’s where the line lies.

And it’s always been clear between them, that jokes are what all of this is.

The subtle flirting, the moments where hands linger too long on a chest, the times they fall asleep on Iwaizumi’s couch and wake up with tangled limbs and dream crusted eyes.

It’s all a huge joke.

“Hand over the glasses, Oikawa, I’m serious.”

“I look good, though!”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and leans over to him, then snatches the glasses off Oikawa’s face.

Instead of smashing them beneath his foot, though, Iwaizumi puts them on his own face.

He expects Oikawa to burst out into a fit of laughter because he’s positive that he looks fucking stupid, but nothing like that happens.

In fact, nothing really happens at all.

Oikawa sits silently on the floor, staring at Iwaizumi with his lips just slightly parted and something unusual churns in Iwaizumi’s stomach. It’s something close to annoyance, but not as angry.

Okay, maybe it’s nothing like being annoyed, but Iwaizumi doesn’t know what exactly it is, so he decides that he’s bothered by how Oikawa’s looking at him.

“What?” he snaps.

“Those look really nice on you,” Oikawa says, his voice somewhat dream-like, as if he’s left this universe and gallivanted off into another.

Oh.

Honesty isn’t something Iwaizumi had expected to tumble out of Oikawa’s mouth.

“Thanks?”

“Mhm.”

An awkward air sprouts between them and Iwaizumi doesn’t know what to say because Oikawa keeps staring at him with those wide brown eyes and he’s not accustomed to this. He’s used to looking at Oikawa, sure. He knows how to handle flicking his gaze on and off at precise moments so Oikawa never catches him, but he doesn’t know anything about fighting Oikawa’s gaze. So, he sits there and says nothing.

  
Until it gets to be a little too much and Iwaizumi decides to just take the glasses off and toss them into Oikawa’s lap.

  
“There,” he says, “they look better on you anyway.”


	2. bad taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bokuaka + cherries for bella  
> in which akaashi hates cherries and bokuto.

“You know I hate cherries, right?” Keiji says, dropping down onto Bokuto’s couch.

  
A single plastic container of cherries sits on the table right in front of the couch and the sight of them alone makes Keiji want to throw up. He’d asked Bokuto to grabs snacks earlier for their study session and hadn’t expected for him to only get a thing of cherries.

  
Guess I’ll starve or bully him into going to the corner store, Keiji thinks. He takes a glance back at Bokuto, who’s standing in the kitchen rummaging through his fridge to find something to drink. His shirts hiking up a bit, showing an inch of his back, and Keiji quickly tears his gaze away.

  
Yeah, he’ll definitely force him to go to the convenience store.

  
Keiji nudges the fruit off to the side of the table and pulls out his laptop and books. It’s going to be a long night, as study nights with Bokuto usually are. Their literature exam is only days away and Keiji knows Bokuto hasn’t read a single short story they’ve been assigned.

  
He sighs.

  
He loves Bokuto, he really does, but sometimes it blows his mind how someone so analytical and observant can still be so… stupid. Yeah, really stupid.

  
“Did you hear me?” Keiji asks, spreading printed out copies of the stories across the glass table. They’re heavily annotated, coated in red marks, and obnoxious highlights.

  
“Mhm!” Bokuto says walking out of the kitchen. He settles onto the couch beside Keiji and picks up the container, then pops a few of the cherries into his mouth.

  
“Are you sure you hate them? They're pretty good.”

  
“I’ve hated them my entire life.”

  
Bokuto shrugs and eats a couple more.

  
“I don’t know what you’re on about ‘Kaashi, these are great.”

  
“To you, maybe,” he says.

  
“You just have bad taste.”

  
In food and men, apparently, he thinks, staring at Bokuto for a little longer than he should. Thankfully, Bokuto doesn’t take notice of the gaze (he never does) and keeps snacking away.

“Can we focus now?”

“Hm?” Bokuto looks down at the work Keiji’s laid out before them. “Oh, yeah!”

  
Keiji actually manages to get Bokuto to focus for almost an hour before he gets tired of working and starts to complain—saying that he’ll never get this stuff down anyway, so it’s pointless to try and cram it all into his head just before the exam. And Keiji, who can never turn Bokuto down, agrees with a sigh and shoves the papers and his computer back into his bag. He knows that Bokuto will pass anyway, either because their professor admires his jubilance or because Bokuto can make it through anything and still come out on top. Regardless, Keiji knows it’ll be fine.

“Hey, ‘Kaashi?”

“Hm?” Keiji’s still trying to organize the papers in his bag and doesn’t look up.

And that’s when fingers are tilting his chin up and

He grimaces at the taste but forces it down anyway. And before he can even snap at Bokuto, his best friend is pressing his lips to his. Keiji freezes, not out of discomfort, but more so out of shock.

What the hell?

Bokuto pulls back with a stupid grin on his face and nods as if he just found something very important out and is proud of his findings.

“What was that?”

“I had a theory?”

“A theory?” Keiji asks, to which Bokuto nods again.

“You hate cherries, yeah, but I thought they’d taste better on your lips.”

Keiji instantly blushes.

“Oh.”

“And I was right!”

Silence settles between them before an idea strikes Keiji. He grins.

“Maybe they’ll taste better on yours, too.”


End file.
